


Hot water and sweet dreams

by Loveforthestory



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sexual Content, charloe - Freeform, one bath one determined Charlie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:43:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3905179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveforthestory/pseuds/Loveforthestory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bass tries to mess with Charlie. Well, Charlie can mess with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One bath, one determined Charlie

'Oh man, come on. Get the fuck out.' Bass barks, seriously losing his patience know.

'Does Charlie know you are in there?' Miles asks amused, knowing very well what the hell his niece has been doing to get ready to take this bath.

'Jesus Monroe,' Charlie steps into the small bathroom, with a tile floor and a large bath tub.

She looks pissed.

But she does not look away, 'Seriously?' She places her arms before her chest. There he is. Splayed out in the bath tub, her  _bath tub,_  before her. Strong wide arms over the rim of the white tub, the wet little hairs under his armpits enticing, complimenting the raw maleness of Monroe.

The rest of his body hidden in slow circles of colours under the water. Defining his body, as the darker circle, around his waist circles around inside of her body with sudden lust.

Like he is the stupid king of everything. It is where the start of an idea is born.

Bass looks over his shoulder, his eyes on Miles, then on Charlie as both of them stand on the threshold on the second floor of their house for the night.

Her face is the kind of seriously pissed he kind of really likes, but then he realises he is butt naked, and she is not and this whole damn joke that seemed like such a good idea, is making him uncomfortable. Very fucking fast. Of course, Miles chooses this moment to not act like a complete moron about him, again butt naked, in front of his niece.  _So much for the help there, brother._

Charlie had been strolling back to the bathroom, where it had been Miles with an amused face waiting for her and catching her attention, in front of the bathroom and a very naked Monroe in the bath. More precisely, she has found him in the tub she had cleaned. Then, she had gone outside. She had made sure there were buckets of warm water getting into the tub. Her skin warm with the hard work, her hair clinging to her head. And now Monroe had found his stupid way into it.

He had smiled at her smugly when she had appeared next to Miles. Weeks on the road kind of threw the whole shy with one another thing overboard. She had seen him before.

Bass looks at Charlie and sees her eyes change from amused to being pissed. He has seen her move the buckets of water. But he had also not stopped himself when his jeans and v neck shirt moved of his back and he had slid into the warm water. A way to mess with her just a little more. And get some damn dirt of this land he has always hated. A win win, as far as he was concerned.

It took her five fucking minutes to barge that fine ass of hers into the room.

She knows he has just not counted on what will happen next.

'You might want to,' Miles waves towards his private area, 'cover up the merchandise Bass.'

He sees two smirks that are so alike, that he swears, if Rachel reveals she made some mistakes with her math, it is not that much extra therapy for their group if that shit comes out.

Bass looks at both Charlie and Miles, the two Mathesons that have bith been a complete pain in his ass, but hell, somehow they got stuck with each other. Damn it, if he doesn't likes it.

Miles leaves, Charlie doesn't,dammit, as both him and Charlie hear him bark with laughter in the hallway and all the way down the stairs.

She smirks. She raises an eyebrow as she walks to the door too. She closes it. But with her still on the same side as him.

'Dammit Charlie.' He growls, wishing he was anywhere but here, although his cock thinks otherwise.

'What are you doing?' He asks, his voice now turning a bit husky.

Charlie can't decide if he is playing this or if the big badass Monroe is chickening out. She is not sure what she hopes for. The last, definitely the last, she thinks. Although the first one, would be not that bad, as something happens within her body. more than wanting to get in his face and get back at him for this little stunt he pulled.

'Well, Bass,' she uses his name for the first time at that moment, she has waited for the right moment as she realises this is one of those moments she has been waiting for. She watches how his eyes turn wide and intense, as there is something happening on his cheeks that makes it all worth the wait for playing this the way she is now, 'I have spent a lot of time preparing that bath.'

His mouth is slightly parted now, while there is something sinister lustful around it.

She locks the door before she walks back to the tub, stopping somewhere in front of it.

'I might as well enjoy it.' 

There it is. That fast smirk that means only trouble. Which he can normally handle, but he is buck naked here and well, fucking hard. Hard being the understatement of the fucking year, as he has the biggest hard on of the century.

Bass almost coughs as he shifts just a little bit in the tub, the weight of his cock moving slowly through the resistance of the water.. But then he smirks. This is Charlie Matheson. She wouldn't.

_And holey fuck in hell._

_She would._

Her hand turns to the button of her jeans as she slowly opens it. Her tank, and bra, hot damn, that bra, flows of her body. He shifts again, his eyes hot on her body that is smoothly being exposed now. She works herself out of her pants, as her boots have already hit the tile floor.

There is the smallest of smirks around his lips as she glides her finger over her hips and down to the band of black small panties. A twitch from his cock, his lips almost keeping the the tip of his tongue between his teeth out of sight as he lets his fingers move over his lips. His index finger slowly rubbing over the skin of his lips, as his other arm is still placed over the rim of the tub. His legs fall to the edges of the rub, as he spreads his legs. Something she notices. He knows she does.

She is not shy. For once, she has the complete attention of a man. It is not like before. It is not with the guy in the bar on her way to Vegas, it is not a slow kiss with Jason. He is a slow fire, that makes something combust in her, makes her want to give over control instead of keeping it when it comes to Monroe.

The line of her curls just above the shadow between her legs mark all the territory left unseen for him. Her breasts, modest but round and the appealing space in between he wants his tongue to be. The shape and line of her thighs. The line towards her armpits. Her hands now on the rim of the bath, arms pressing against her tits.

His eyes don't know what to to feast on first.

He won't touch her.

There is a movement in the water as she bends her knees and she slides in the water like some freaking mermaid. Her hair moving into the water, changing colour.

He pulls one of his legs up leg, his knee with a s scar a bit above water, the strong line of his muscles under water. She feels his leg. It's a hit inside of her, a jolt of feeling his warm skin against her. The inside of his right leg is touching hers. It feels strong and hard, and she feels the little hairs of his leg against her own.

Meanwhile he has made himself comfortable, although her eyes are on her. Bass, keeps his arms on the rims of the tub. He is wide, and his arms reach far. The water id dripping from his fingers.

She is not going to not look at him. The water is warm. This is her bath. She does not move. If he wants to be there, let him be here.

'Enjoying yourself Monroe?'

'Well, it is a good bath, Charlotte.'

She swears she sees his cock move between his legs, the movement there when he said hr name.

She does not take his eyes away from him.

As her back moves down the side of the bath, she moves further down the water . It is a small change in the colour of his eyes, that tells her he has noticed. She is aware of what is there, under the water, under the warm surface as she slides down further between his legs.

This is interesting. It is not like there has not been anything between them. But this is, unexpected to say the least. It is also fun. He lets her play her hot water game. They are looking at the other, both deciding what their next move will be and when it will be.

It is a voice out there that moves them both back into reality.

'Bass, you are done with the pampering in there? Have a bottle of whiskey in here.'

Hands go to the door handle.

'Aaaaand why is this door locked?'

'Don't want anyone slipping inside..' his eyes are broody when he says that last word, his eyes do not leave her. 

They are almost making her roll her eyes. But she just moves her leg more towards the place right between his thighs. He does not hesitate. His eyes are filled with danger and hot blue as he grabs her foot, holds it still and twists it a little bit to the outside, causing the skin of her leg to touch the ceramic cooler wall of the tub and her pussy to open up just enough for her to realise a moan was almost there.

'Have you seen Charlie?'

She gets pissed for a moment. Monroe knows exactly what he is doing, as his eyes move towards the more darker spot between her legs under the surface of the water. Again, the small shift of his fingers brushing against his lips. She feels a surge of heat between her legs.

'I am sure she is all right Miles.'

'All right and making plans to murder your ass for this Bass.'

It earns him a small laughter from her, as Miles says that. Splashing some water when she moves her hand in front of her mouth to stop herself. Monroe is grabbing her feet even harder, as his eyes fire at Charlie to stay quiet.

'Oh hell Bass, I don't want to know.' Miles groans in agony as he hears the sound of water that could indicate some other movements Bass is making.

'No, you really don't.' Bass emphasizes each and every word, like one orgasm at a time, that last word with a low tone that makes Charlie shiver.

Then they hear another voice, a sigh from Miles and he leaves the door.

Bass is now smirking at her, as he gently lets go of her leg and fingers leave her skin that feel empty now without him there and Charlie breathes out. She leans her head against the tub with hooded eyes. The warm water and her there, in the half circle that is Bass around her lower body, relaxing and thrilling at the same time. as Bass is slowly moving his fingers over the soreness that spreads in her leg. It is a small touch, but it magnifies under the water. They lay there, in the warm water, her knees within the wideness of his thighs encirclung her as it is quiet outside and Charlie realises this is not that bad.

Bass thinks about how far Charlie is willing to let this go. He is also enjoying her shoulders, and her body between his thighs and the way her eyes are playing with their distance and the water.

As Charlie feels the tub around her, she sees the hard lines of his thighs under water and the smirk around his eyes that is changing into something more intense and softer at the same time.

Not bad at all.

 

Author's Note As the title said: we have hot water and then...sweet dreams. Between all the intense stories I wanted to have a lighter one, one with more fun and play. Love to see you there!


	2. Thoughts. About you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are all so lovely, thank you for all your reviews and kudo's!  
> After Bass stole Charlie's bath, and she messes wirh him after he did the same we have two people unable to stop thinking about the other in this chapter.

Charlie remembers his smouldering eyes. The warm water. It had been a slow exploration. It has been slow. Looking, between her and Bass, a soft touch, of feeling the cold side of the tub, of his warm large with little hairs on it leg, of the pressure in the water when he moved. Of something that stood between them now within her legs within his.

His eyes that already made her come with a will on its own deep inside her belly. His hand wrapped around her calf and foot. As a way to mess with her, then a way to play her body. Then a warm gentleness that came through, that probably shouldn't, and that should not get to her that much. Because there is a possibility, that he is more.

After all the effort she made, for preparing that bath.

It should have been a way to shut him up.

To slowly glide into the water, to give him a run for his money. Only this is Monroe. Sebastian Monroe. And she should have known he would not run.

It should have been that. Although another voice tells her she might have met him on that field for more than that.

It isn't. Is it?

Nothing happened in that bath. Everything happened in that bath.

Monroe.

The man that has her shaking herself back to herself to remind herself. Rawness she can't give in to. She could have had a piece of him. Connor had offered it to her, as he was close and she was pissed after Monroe went into negotiations for more mercs. But she couldn't. His eyes, his shoulders. They were not were too light. She could not do light. She needed someone that could manage her weight in misery and dark. Go figure she could find it with Monroe. It would have been easy. Going for that option there near the fire where Monroe would make his return that night or come morning. But she couldn't. It was tempting, to forever smash a bridge between them. A bridge of distance and him never being able to cross it.

She could have.

She hadn't.

She had freshened up, after she had gotten out of the bath and she had taken her time to collect her things. He had given her room, but her eyes were on her. She had smirked at him and left. Left him with eyes that hinted his lust with a smirk that made a unspoken agreement and maybe hope that this was not over. And now it was nightfall as she watched him for a distance. His shoulders and back curving in that jacket of his, that he had with him since he came back from Mexico. He had been doing some bullshitting around with her uncle as he had grinned that cocky manly grin of his, as his flowing shoulders had moved in syncs with the jacket. That hair, curls she wanted to dip her fingers in. That ass.

She has walked inside, found a corner for herself and took a sip of water.

That bath. Nothing had happened. Everything had happened. Charlie hears Connor in the hallway but stays in her corner of her room. He went away.

The hunger between her fabric and her curves did not. She finds warmth when her fingers move over her clit. She is already ready, for what would happened. She starts stroking, the images of a Monroe still revealed in the water, his hips accommodating that one piece of him that she imagines right now, to see, feel, as her breath moves faster and she registers a sound somewhere down in the house of a door slamming into wood.

Bass crashes the screen door open as he moves out into the night, putting on the jacket over his shoulders in the same movement. Charlie in bath, with him is with him nonstop since it happened. A Matheson and give them a challenge, they always blow you away. Now all he can think about is how she is blowing something else.

Fuck, a curse. He has to get out of the damn house because he needs to blow off some steam. Darkness, time alone, he does not care where to find it, if he just finds it. Fast. Like now. His face filled with dark thunder as he passes Miles and his kid on the way with a don't ask look when he stomps off into the tree line.

He thinks about her, in that bath. Her smirk, the jerk through his balls the fucking second right before he realised what was going to happen and his brain was already screaming at him how fucked he was. He sees her again as the sound of his zipper goes through the woods. How she moved into the water.

But most of all, how the smouldering play of eyes and warm water was there as she had purposely had shifted herself between his thighs. And dear god, what kind of thighs. Sculpted and firm, yet with those curves he spend so many hours with from a far and really damn close. The weight of her ass and thighs familiar as he had to carry her once for hours.

The thought of how wet she would be for him between those thighs making him already come dangerously close.

The fact that he feels this need to protect her, be in her face when he is fucking pissed off.

The fact that he had her there in that bath, so damn close. The feeling of wanting to protect her and fuck her, take her, make her feel him all at once.

And fuck, did he love her there between his knees. The soft curve of her feet under his fingers when Miles stood at the other side of the door. She had not pulled back, cursed something of telling him how delusional he was exactly. She had not moved, looked at him, draw him in. She was not shy. She was a body with confidence, a smirk. Not afraid to meet his challenge. She never was. But there was something fucking else, that had him here in the woods.

What  _he_  did to her reflected in those eyes. Blue circles, filled with hot surrender somehow, with needing something there. Her breasts flowing with the line of the bathwater, her hair around her shoulders, and the shadow in the water where he wanted to move to. With his mouth.

An image of him grasping her, pulling her to his side of the bath.

His cock has been hard, ever since she has did the flipping mermaid thing.

He jerks off to the rhythm of the images of her, with fast violent jerks from his wrist that move into fingers wrapped around his cock as he can't hold it anymore and the defence breaks. His eyes shut, curse words and the name of the woman he needs more than fucking anything.

And he loses all fucking grip on reality when he comes in hot flows.

His whole chest is filled with heavy breaths as another deep breath comes through. Fuck that was good.

He came. It was fucking good

It is not enough.

He zips himself up, as he moves his hand over his stubble and he walks back to the house. It is dark, and thank god for that since Miles is waiting for him on the porch. Another aggressive verbal smack down with him is just what he might to get rid of all these fucking frustration.

 _Charlie._ Fuck this is so fucking stupid. Enraging. He wants her.

He really does.

Miles looks up as he nods at him. They share a bottle, snarky remarks. And when his head is buzzed with booze, but not nearly enough he gets up and tells Miles goodnight. His kid is already asleep, so is Rachel. He wants his bed. Sleep. Not think about her and how fucking close she is, with sheets wrapped around hips he knows now by heart. He knew them in a tank and tight jeans. Now he knows the flow of them, naked, with wet curls in the middle and a fucking body he would slay through Texas for.

He has one hand on the hilt of his sword as he takes in a breath casually, his boots hitting the steps.

He walks into his bedroom. And when he opens the door, she is there.

Oh dear fucking god. Of course she is.

On  _his_  bed. With nothing on her than a wide smile and a little towel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note Hey lovely everyone, thank you so much for reading! I love that you guys are here. Hope.to meet you in chapter three. Becuase after hot water, sweet dreams it is time for something else.
> 
> Love from Love


	3. You do know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, in chapter one Bass thought it would be a good idea to mess with Charlie by stealing her bath. Of course, Charlie was there to mess right back with him, by joining him in that bath.  
> In chapter two, Bass needed to blow off some steam. In the woods. Alone. Charlie had to do the same. Thinking of him.
> 
> In this chapter, it all comes together as Bass has just had a bottle with a brother and made his way up the stairs of their current safe house. He has just walked into his room..

'You are in my bed,' Bass growls. Then, he grins with the corner of his mouth when he realises that is a line he thought he would never use with Charlie Matheson. Not in the fucking history of  _ever_ .

She smirks.

'You  _were_ in my bath,' She counters.

Bass looks at her as she lays on his bed as he realises she is here to finish what she has started when she moved, fucking naked, fucking hell and hips and boobs and legs an oh so much fucking more, in the bath with him.

The towel drapes over the swelling of her breast, and it flows as white steady water over her breasts, stomach and in between and a little  _over_  her legs. The line of the towel dipping enticingly and lowly around her breasts, making his cock scream for her pink nipples and her perfect rounded tits right under there. An image of those tits right before his face, with Charlie on his lap and his hands on her ass, follow soon.

Bass shuts the door with one boot, the look on his face, the mixture of soft rawness, he seems to only have for her there. It still plays delicious world shattering games with her, with her body. Charlie shifts her weight, as she looks at Monroe. And the son of a bitch knows. She knows he knows. He knows she knows.

He looks at her, the soft light of a fire in the fireplace glowing low, and he gestures at her towel with two fingers that are pointed at her.

'That is one interesting little towel, Charlotte.' The casual rough tone, sex dripping of every words, makes her squirm her legs.

He sees it. And fuck, he wants her.

This is her invitation. He is not saying no.

'Is that so?' Charlie quips back.

He casually moves out of his jacket. Oh god the jacket. Charlie has to control her breathing when she sees him. Smooth leather and smooth movements of his arms as he drops it.

He moves one knee into the mattress, the mattress dipping with the weight of his tall body. He moves between her legs. The breath of a rough whisper, reaches her ear. She expects another Monroe come back.

'God, Charlie, I swear, you have no idea what I want to do with you.'

The words, his tone, the warm breath, they are wild, and filled with contained lust this man can ooze from his eyes, but there are also filled with a soft touch of caressing, touching, taking care of her.

The mixture is wild. And intoxicating.

She looks a the line of a large thumb, the nail short, the hand large and strong and the skin rough. His touch isn't. She knows his reputation of booze and ego and his will to take the whole damn continent from sea to shiny sea. She knows his moods, his tantrums, his eyes that haunt her when they shouldn't. She knows his ability to break, to torture.

And with his slow agonizing torturing touch he moves over her shoulder. Looks at her longer than a man has ever done. And with a shiver inside, a shiver she does not show him, she realises how good he is at this too. Of course he is.

He leans into her, ignoring his cock so close to her.

For now.

His fingers move. Further. Over her body. He is close. He smells like him, his fingers are large and making a trail of soft tender touch over her skin. Making herself wanting her to rub herself on him, needing to move her clit in slow circles to feed the hunger inside of her. A hunger that wants to be met with deep moans as she gets her share.

There is this moment where either of them can pretend they can stop this at anytime. But it is a hollow moment, because that moment left them a long time ago when he saved her from that bar, and she saved him from turning into forever blankness.

Charlie wants this. Charlie won't back out of this. Too many moments of wondering why this is there. Too much stolen minutes where she could pretend how he would feel on her. Deciding to be there in that bath with him, showing her how every curve of his body looks But now he is here, and his touch is so sure, she almost is blazing away from him, it is almost too much for her senses.

Bass wants to play this game this little stubborn fighter, woman. Loyal, brave, strong, oh she does not know how fucking strong she is herself. He won't stop. Not until he has her soft and spend and satisfied in his arms. He has fucking wondered too often how it would be like to be with her. Not fight with her, not look at her so long he was sure things would get pretty damn uncomfortable when somebody would notice the hard cock in his pants.

But he feels like he can break. she can break him, if he gulps in more of the woman in front of her, the women that is all Charlotte.

But then, there is a small shift of breath, released by her. The sigh that is a soft comfort, a strong desire. A welcome. A want for more.

And he moves the white towel on and over her body, over her breasts, revealing her, as her eyes follow him, as his cock proudly juts against his pants. The smooth white fabric falls over her belly. He helps the towel move.

Charlie does not move.

Not even when Monroe finally disengages from her eyes and his eyes fall over her body down the line of hair between her legs. Taking his time. Of course, the asshole is taking his time, but the thing is, it is a soft look, like he is planning how to take her. It is a look that makes her feel seen and swirl into lust and want and impatience at the same time.

Bass moves in, as he presses a kiss on her collarbone. Her lips are there, waiting, but they are too much yet.

He has not decided if they should go there. If it would cost them too much. He feels she is doing the same.

But the burn of her wanting him the way he does, is flaming between them. He moves lower. His face now in the orbs of her breasts and they are there for him to taste. He looks at her quickly, licks his lips that makes her move her mouth into a round whispered without sound  _Oh_.

He locks eyes with her because damn it, he wants her to know what he is going to do next. This girl can read him, better than everyone it feels, and he needs to see her, needs to know she understands.

Charlie gnaws on her bottom lip as she hears him shuffle his feet, readjusting himself at the end of the bed, and she realises what he is going to do.

She had it before. Fast, almost dutiful.

And then it's his raw strength as his hands dip under her thighs, and he pivots her on the bed with her back on the mattress, her legs wide, his arms and hands catching her legs.

Bass eyes lit up, as he realises his girl knows exactly what he is going to do with her. And the flood of want and confusion and misty curiosity with sheer power for what is coming next, fills him almost like the start of a battle does.

He knew that if Miles ever finds out, he could better ask for a spade, digging the hole for his grave Rachel would personally shove him in this time as Miles helped her.

Well, that is for another day.

Now he feels and tastes the sweetness of her pussy, her skin against his cheeks as his mouth engulfed her senses. His cock juts harder as a price of victory.

She had it before.

But Monroe. He takes her like he would take a continent.

It is stalking, slow, as he starts at the lines and moves to the centre. Taking her, without even thinking about stopping. The moment she comes she is lifted up and not in the room anymore as there is only a place of lust that turns into deep pulses where it is only his arms that hold her down and his hot breath the last thing she is able to feel before she can't think. Her head moves back into the mattress as his weight flows against hers and they are one.

She just comes.

Hard. His curls against the inside of her thighs. Her curls on the soft linen of the bed. The towel on her right. Forgotten.

Bass watches Charlie. All spaying out in front of him. Her hand dipped into the towel on her side. Her other on her belly. The soft light of the lamp falling over her. He moves out of his shirt and boots quickly as he joins her on the bed.

Charlie pushes herself of the bed, her cheeks blushed by his doing.

'God...Bass...' she whispers.

'Sounds like you liked it?' He grins, he made her come. His mouth, his fucking touch. Nobody else.

'Better than I have imagined it.' Charlie says softly.

'You have been...' Bass has to swallow, 'thinking of this, me, huh?' There is an almost shy content smirk that meets a smile on his face.

'Yes,' Charlie says, not looking away. 'Just now, right before you walked in.'

She can see his eyes change. Holey fucking hell, the thought of her, thinking about him, splayed out, legs wide, her hands in her panties make him feel a surge of heat through his balls.

She moves closer to him, now that they are together on the bed.

'It wasn't enough,' She smiles at him, her voice so sure, but so close to his heart, 'although that, ' feeling his warm wet tongue over her clit still there, 'was so good Bass.'

She is surprised at how the words make an impact. He had many, many woman. The way she is affecting him, is filling her.

'Good,' he looks at her, as he grumbles it, looking at her, feeling the curves of her body against his knees, his upper arm. He wants her, but he wants her to give herself freely. He wants her to want this too.

He watches her, as curiosity like she is making up her mind. He is not sure about what. Her eyes go over his face. And then she moves in, as for the first time she knows what it is like to be touched like that and feel the taste of herself on her lips, as his lips are there.

Bass moves his hand into the tresses of her hair.

And there, in the soft Texan night, Charlie Matheson lets him kiss her.

Charlie Matheson is kissing him.

The night if falling over the Texan land, and it is now almost completely without noises out there, outside their safe house.

He hears her shift on the bed, the noise of her body against the sheets.

He is with her. Lets her kiss him, as his large leg is towering over her smaller slender one. As his cock is safe between her thighs. The heavy line of his cock between her legs, resting against its place. Her golden skin shining in the light of the room like honey.

The pick up the pace again. Her knee is close to his cock. She stops herself. If she feels Bass for the first time, it will be her hand remembering that touch. This time she plays with his chest.

It is time. Charlie Matheson has to admit she wants Sebastian Monroe.

No, she wants Bass.

She wants all of him.

This time she watches him, licking his lips, fucking her already in his mind, she knows he is, his body a step ahead, lost in what is before him.

She admires his strength, this time from so close, she can taste him on her lips, as easy strong muscles legs move out of his jeans and a wide cock rests between his thighs.

Heat. Want.

He takes personal pleasure when her eyes rest on his cock.

Charlie wants to roll her eyes at him, but she thinks of something better to do. She moves completely over him. And there she is. On his lap. His hands on her ass. As the warmth of her core is around the head of his cock. Her fucking tits right before his eyes, just like he fucking imagined them. And damn, it is so much better.

They look at the other, he gently moves her in his lap.

And then, his cock moves into her, filling her completely as she begs for it, and he has to close his eyes and shove his face in the nook of her neck, as a low growl escapes from him.

'Bass...' another push, another moan.

'Charlie...god...' maybe he calls her baby, maybe he doesn't. He can't fucking think like this. He is just there with her, as she opens completely for him and he gets to have all of her.

When she comes again, and when Bass is about to shoot his load all over her sweet belly too, their hands meet in the middle, finding each other with a sweaty clasping of skin as his fingers envelop her hand, and her fingers seek out for his to catch.

Tomorrow she will call him Monroe again. He does not mind. He knows what world they live in, he knows everything about hearts so worn and torn and pushed at, that he knows why she needs to do that. He knows that he is Bass to her, in some corners in time.

It is enough.

He moves his hand slowly over her back.

It is enough because then she looks up at him.

'Stay,' She asks, her eyes unguarded, so unlike her, that it almost breaks his fucking heart.

They look at each other, as Charlie sees the softer blue, the strong sweaty body next to her. She wants him here, for one night. Them, naked, warm. Asleep. The scent of his skin close. Tomorrow they have to fight. She has to be Charlie Matheson, strong, guarded. Not tonight, not with him.

Tonight she is with Bass.

And then his eyes change, he moves to her ear.

'You do know you are in my bed right.' Charlie is fucking asking him to stay in his  _own_  damn bad.

'You do know you like me in it, right?' She whispers back.

He tilts her head towards him. And before he will kiss her again, fuck her again he asks for her eyes.

And his voice is more open and low and warm and so like Bass, so like he once must have been, as he answers her.

'Hell yeah.' Bass growls at her, with a warm smirk in his eyes, the one that makes the lines around his eyes move with him.

He pulls her close, warm large hand on her thighs as she disappears into his arms. As she realises, with a shock of warm knowing she is not as alone as she thought, that he can carry her, in every sense of the word.

He kisses her, roughly, needing her. And he repeats it again.

'Hell yeah.'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hearing from you, so if you have time, a review is always welcome. I loved writing this story...and if there are ideas or thoughts for more, I am always happy to add some more in the sweet challenging strong dynamics between Charlie and Bass.
> 
> Love from Love


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